


Danny's Ocean

by bakedsweetpotato



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Mental Health Issues, Original Character(s), Plot Twists, Smut, shit gets real later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-09-16 09:39:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16951599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakedsweetpotato/pseuds/bakedsweetpotato
Summary: Turns out Danny really is in that casket, but he brought secrets to his grave and it's only a matter of time before they all come to light. i.e. Danny has a daughter, who knew?





	1. Chapter 1

It's a seemingly normal afternoon, except it isn't. The eight ladies gather around the common sitting area in Lou's cozy loft, where they'd planned one of the biggest jewelry heists just months ago. It's been six exact months since they've pulled it off, and everyone's taken the liberty to drop into town to celebrate, even super-mom Tammy. The millionaires sip on champagne and laugh over everything, slipping easily back into comfortable conversation even after being apart for so long. Debbie never thought they'd become anything more than acquaintances, much less family, but when Constance paid a visit to Nineball's bar and asked her to send a (hacked) message to all the ladies, she grinned at her phone screen. She was thrilled they'd be back together because truth of the matter was, she'd walk over broken glass for these girls now.

"No. No way! You're lying." Constance groans in disbelief.

"I swear on my life! Max actually thought it'd be a good idea to dump a bucket of dirt in his sister's schoolbag. Camilla was crying about it for weeks. That might have been the most torturous few days of my life."

"This is why you should always use protection, ladies." Daphne sighs, shaking her head.

Tammy mocks throwing a pillow at her. "Shut up, being a mom's great. I wouldn't give it up for anything, not even a lifetime of fencing."

"And we know how much you love that," Daphne scoffs, words dripping with mock sarcasm and a hint of amusement.

A ring from the doorbell has everybody looking up.

"Are we expecting anyone?" Lou frowns.

"Oh! Yes! Me!" Daphne excitedly shows to lift a dainty finger. "I ordered Chinese. It's my usual postmates guy, just let'em in."

Tammy's almost out the entrance way to head to the front door when Amita asks, with an incredulous arch of her brow, "You have a usual postmates delivery guy?"

Daphne shrugs, blowing her bubblegum until it pops. Tammy returns, followed closely by a young, pretty Asian girl carrying a paper bag radiating a delicious-smelling aroma. She has her frilly long-sleeved white blouse tucked into her denim skirt, looking far more formal than the average postmates deliverer. That should've tipped them off.

"You can just leave the food here," Tammy smiles kindly, gesturing to the tiniest available spot on their cluttered transparent coffee table. The girl does as instructed, then steps back courteously, hands clasped in front of her like she's waiting for something.

"Wait a second. Who are you? Cameron's girlfriend?"

The girl regards Daphne curiously, then smiles. "Not exactly," she says, a sly edge to her voice.

This sets everyone on alert and Tammy, still the closest to the girl, turns towards her, defensive. "Who the hell are you?"

The intruder doesn't respond, merely looks towards Debbie and scans her bottom to top. Her entire aura seems to soften, and Lou fights a rising urge to protect Debbie.

"I'm Danny's daughter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to write again because for once, I've fallen in love with a movie concept and not just a couple. Of course I'm obsessed with Lou and Debbie though. They're meant to be. The following chapters will probably be longer too. Comments are always appreciated. Hope you guys enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mental health issues mentioned.

The seconds after that drag into minutes of silence. The girl doesn't appear bothered in the slightest, patiently waiting for the women to process the bomb she'd just dropped. She leans her weight on one leg, shoulder length wavy brown hair falling to the side as she tilts her head slightly, gauging their reactions. Apart from Lou, Amita and Tammy, the rest had never met Debbie's notorious brother but even they have heard the stories. Debbie freezes, blinking slowly.

"Tess was never pregnant," Debbie chooses to say.

"I'm adopted. I thought being Asian would give it away."

Debbie swallows the lump in her throat.

"Danny never mentioned that he and Tess adopted a child."

"Tess was never involved. It was just Danny."

"He never mentioned it," Debbie states adamantly. The young lady standing before her was at least five foot five, near her twenties, if Debbie were to hazard a guess. How on earth had Danny kept her hidden all these years?

The girl sighs in resignation, picking at the frills around her left wrist in irritation.

"Would it make a difference if I told you my name was Dwyn?"

Debbie stops short, the memory of a familiar voice whispering in her ear. "To steal in Welsh," she murmurs.

The team frowns at her and she exhales in disbelief. "The last letter Danny sent me while I was still..." she takes in another breath, "all he wrote was: 'I chose to steal in Welsh.'"

If that was supposed to clarify anything, it certainly failed. The others frowned even deeper, glancing at Lou like they expected her to translate Debbie's illogical rambling.

"It didn't make sense at the time. I spent ages wondering what he stole in Welsh and why he had to do it in Welsh in the first place, and why he decided prison, of all places, would be a good place to tell me. I wrote back but he never responded and the next thing I knew, he was dead. I must have stared at the letter for months after that, even after parole, during the entire heist. It took a while before I thought to search the Welsh translation for 'steal', which is dwyn, but I brushed it aside because that didn't make any sense either. Until now. He meant that he chose the name Dwyn. For you."

"He said if I ever needed to get through to you, I just had to tell you my name."

"Did Danny tell you I was locked up?"

"Who do you think sent you that letter telling you he'd passed?"

Debbie huffs, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Of course it was you. Danny taught you that too? I didn't even know he knew wila writing."

"He had a friend teach me. Thought it'd be useful for me to learn the ins and outs of prison since you were in there."

"What's wila writing?" Constance pipes up.

"Minuscule writing behind the stamp on a letter. Inmates use it to send hidden messages," Debbie says evenly, composing her whirlwind of thoughts as she leans back against the couch while maintaining her rigid posture. "Problem is, they usually get detected and intercepted by the guards before the recipient actually receives it."

Debbie turns to look at Dwyn in a curious mix of expectant and skeptical.

Dwyn shrugs. "I might have bought off some people on the inside."

Lou raises her brows, sharing an impressed and amused look with Debbie. She sure sounds like Danny.

"Why are you only here now? I mean, you must've known that I got released months ago."

"School," she says honestly. "I just graduated from high school in Singapore."

"Singapore?"

"I've been living there while studying."

Debbie considers this. "And now that you've graduated?"

"I'm taking a break from studying for a while," Dwyn purses her lips together in some kind of an unconscious semi-pout, "but I do need your signature to get my official academic transcripts for when I decide to start applying for college."

When Debbie stares at her blankly, Dwyn explains. "Danny listed you as my default guardian should anything happen to him, and my school needs my guardian's signature of approval as proof that my guardian is aware of my progress before they release my official academic transcripts to me. Academic transcripts that I need to attach to my college applications."

"Oh."

Dwyn reaches in her mustard canvas tote bag and pulls out a file clipped at the top with a pen. She hands it over to Debbie. "These are my non-official academic records. There's a signature bit at the bottom."

Debbie flips between the pages slowly, studying their contents more intently than Dwyn probably expected her to.

"I would've signed it myself," Dwyn adds, like she expects that Debbie thinks flying all the way from Singapore to New York for a signature is absolutely ludicrous, "but they have your information in the system and I can't forge a signature I've never seen."

"Straight As," Debbie mumbles, eyes never leaving the papers. Dwyn shifts her weight onto her other leg and tilts her head.

"Captain of the cheerleading team, co-caption of the volleyball team. Impressive."

"Thank you."

"Volunteering with the children's hospital," Debbie flips the page, "the orphanage, animal shelter."

Debbie finally looks up at Dwyn, studies her instead of the papers.

"Why would Danny leave me as your guardian and not tell me about it?" Debbie's confusion (and slight betrayal at her brother keeping such a huge secret from her) comes across harsher than she'd expected, seeming to unintentionally insinuate that her niece is still lying to her.

Dwyn shrugs, doesn't appear bothered externally, but takes Debbie's accusation to heart. "I don't expect you to welcome me into the family," she says carelessly, only the tiniest hint of bitterness to her voice, "I really only need your signature. Danny left me everything else so I have more than enough to get by on my own. As for the guardianship, it'll be revoked when I turn 18 next year, but you won't have to hear from me again after I leave today."

Debbie grits her teeth, a pang of unwanted guilt, then looks at Lou, conflicted, for once not knowing how to react.

"When's your flight back to Singapore?" Lou takes over, Australian accent thick.

"Friday."

"How about you stay here until then?" Lou looks between Dwyn and Debbie for approval from both sides.

"That's okay. I've booked a hotel room."

"Cancel it. I'll drive you to pick up your things." Lou takes the papers from Debbie and slots them neatly back into the folder. "She'll sign it on Friday right before you leave."

Dwyn frowns slightly, then relaxes into a resigned sigh, taking the file from Lou. "Can we get lunch on the way?"

Lou grins and pushes herself off the ground. "You bet." She places an assuring hand on Debbie's shoulder as she follows Dwyn out the front door, giving Debbie time to collect herself. As they're about to hop into Lou's Toyota, Dwyn opens the back door and whistles. The fluffiest dog Lou thinks she's ever seen scrambles from out of nowhere and into her back seat. 

"Uh, where did he come from?"

"This is Grey, my service dog. You don't mind him being in the car, do you?" Dwyn asks when she climbs into the passenger seat beside Lou.

Lou contemplates this new revelation about Debbie's adopted niece. "No, of course not," she finally says. She takes Dwyn to one of her favourite casual dining places - a quaint little cafe that serves a surprising array of unique, fusion dishes. Grey lies under the table, even tucks his long tail in while they eat, and doesn't make a single noise. Lou doesn't miss the way Dwyn keeps one leg against Grey's fur, probably to maintain assurance and grounding even when she can't easily see him. The cafe is small, but relatively empty, and it doesn't take long for the waiter to serve them their orders.

"So, you've never met anybody in Danny's family?"

"No. He didn't want me getting involved with the illegal stuff."

Lou quirks an eyebrow.

"He just wanted me to have a normal life, after everything."

"Everything?"

The younger girl sucks in a tight breath, more in preparation than in fear. Her eyes go a blank slate of glassy and Lou bites on the inside of her cheek, afraid she's somehow pushed the girl too far. She glances down at Grey who stays huddled by Dwyn's feet.

"I was taken, when I was little," Dwyn sighs. "Made to beg in the streets in Thailand. The syndicate, they kidnapped young children from all over and forced us on our knees. If we weren't pitiful enough to hit our target earnings, they'd amputate our limbs and put us out again. That's why I've got Grey. For the PTSD, and... everything else." She speaks evenly, as if it doesn't bother her anymore, but Lou's not stupid. A past like that never leaves you. Lou tenses in discomfort, throat burning with the build up of carbon dioxide from the breath she didn't realise she was holding. At her silence, Dwyn adds abruptly: "it's not a big deal. It's over now."

"Just because something's over doesn't mean it can't still hurt."

Dwyn stares into Lou's protective, fiery blue eyes, then nods once. "I suppose."

"And is that how Danny found you? In the streets?"

"Yeah." Dwyn smiles sadly. "He pulled a con on the syndicate, planned a distraction elaborate enough to save all 46 of us. He even tipped the cops off to crumble the entire operation."

"Shit," Lou mutters.

"Yeah. He put the children in orphanages all over the world so no one would be able to trace them back to the syndicate and they could have a better life."

"But he wanted you to stay with him?"

"Yeah, I ran the con with him."

Lou blinks. "What?"

"I was the first child he found. He read my fear like a book and slipped me a note with the dollar he tossed in my bucket. He told me he would come back, and he did - again and again, for two weeks. Until one day, he slipped in a much longer note. He needed me to tell and gather the children since we were all scattered and he couldn't contact us all directly. That night, after the guards left us all to sleep in our cages, I told the other children the plan. Everything worked out, and the rest is history. He took me in after, flew me to New Zealand with him for the first year then to Singapore to start my studies. I was eight then, and one of his friends agreed to take me in until I was old enough to live on my own. When I was 14, Danny bought me an apartment and I've lived there ever since."

Lou nods in intervals, chewing mouthfuls of rice and vegetables. "Hell of a story, kid."

"Danny's told me so much about you guys. I guess it's only fair you know something about me."

"Oh yeah? What did he say about us?"

Dwyn gives a perceptive smile. "That Aunt Debbie fucked it up with you."

Lou quirks a brow, considering her words.

"He was afraid you'd leave her."

"I would never."

Dwyn shrugs. "Six years is a long time to nurse a betrayal."

Lou scoffs, more at herself. Of course the normal thing for anyone to do would be to cut ties, but to her, it wasn't even an option. Debbie was like her own personal homing beacon that always called and pulled her back in, no matter how hard she tried to run away.

"Wanna head off?" Dwyn asks with a tilt of her head, placing her cutlery neatly on her now-empty plate.

"Yeah, let's get your stuff."

Lou insists on paying, literally plays the millionaire card to convince Dwyn not to go dutch. They head back to the car, Grey keeping pace at Dwyn’s heels, greyish blue and white fur swishing as he trots along. Lou keeps from petting or looking at the dog too much, afraid of distracting him from his work, but having an unexpected guest constantly moving in her peripheral isn't exactly easy to ignore. Dwyn, on the other hand, appreciates the thought but as soon as they’re in the car, stops Lou from starting the engine.

“You can pet him if you want, you know. As long as we’re not in public.”

“Observant, aren’t you.”

Dwyn grins, slumping back in her seat roughly and kicking one knee up to hug to her chest. “Your highly conspicuous side-glances gave it away.”

Lou laughs, turning to look at Grey. She reaches a tentative hand out and Grey meets her halfway, bumping his head into Lou’s palm and nuzzling gently.

“Oh god. He’s the cutest. What breed is he?”

“A blue-white border collie.”

“Did Danny get him for you?”

“Yeah. Things got bad in New Zealand. I didn’t really let myself process everything while I was kidnapped, but once we got out, it was like everything I suppressed came back at full-force. I stopped eating, stopped talking. I started having panic attacks and PTSD symptoms. Even then, Danny was so patient with me. After a ridiculous amount of therapy, the doctors suggested a service dog. I didn’t think we were actually going to try it but Danny came home one day with the tiniest little furball. My first service dog was a female, Ivory. White GSD. She passed away four years back and Danny brought me to get another pup,” Dwyn smiles nostalgically, scratching Grey behind the ear. “He’s been with me ever since.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”

“Everybody has bad times," she says smoothly, " _you should know that. _”__

__Lou’s expression turns grave. It’s the first time she considers just how much Danny has told the young girl about all of their lives; the first time she actually feels uneasy about taking in this girl who seems to know everything about them but they know nothing about, except what she chooses to disclose. This revelation triggers her wary side, makes her doubt the truth and motives behind the younger woman's words. There are fantastic liars out there, able to spin elaborate tales on a whim. Lou would know, she knows plenty herself, could even be seen as one herself. The only thing they can be sure of is that this girl is Danny’s daughter because Debbie verified her by name and Danny wouldn't have let that slip to anyone else. Beyond that, there’s really no concrete way for them to prove that anything else she says is true. Lou thinks back on it, realises she hasn’t seen any tells or signs of lying - but the best teachers train the best students, and Danny certainly was as good as they come._ _

__“Shall we?”_ _

__Lou snaps out of her thoughts and turns the ignition keys, hearing the car kick into gear. They fall into more comfortable territory, chatting about mundane things like life in Singapore, Dwyn’s favourite places in New York and what she wants to do before her flight on Friday. Lou responds casually throughout the conversation but she could never stop the nagging at the back of her mind that this girl might not be everything she says she is._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would love to know what you guys think of the fic so far


	3. Chapter 3

They pick up her things, check-out of her hotel room and return her keys before heading back to the loft. Lou does a quick time check when they’re five minutes out. It’s been nearly two hours, surely Debbie’s composed herself by now, Lou hopes. 

They enter to see that the ladies have barely moved from how they left them. Tammy still on the couch, but now chewing on her index fingernail with a foot tapping rapidly on the concrete. Constance on the floor, seated with her right knee propped up over her other leg and one arm perched on it like the teenage hooligans who sometimes wander around Lou's secluded area for a smoke and god knows what else. Debbie inhales a sharp, audible breath and her eyes soften as she looks to Lou then Dwyn.

“Hi, Dwyn.” It comes out kind of nervous, something the ladies have never heard in Debbie's voice before.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry, for earlier. I just needed some time to process everything.”

“I get it. Take as long as you need.”

“No, no. I’m good, for now. I’ve had time to think while you two were out.”

Beside Dwyn, Lou sits cross-legged on the ground, now fully playing with Grey who rolls on his back to receive belly rubs from the blonde. Debbie quirks an eyebrow at the sight, amused when Lou peers up at her with a toothy grin, bangs falling into her eyes.

"So what's with the pup?" Daphne questions, equally curious.

"This is Grey, my service dog."

"What kind of service?"

"Daphne," Debbie warns.

"Psychiatric," Dwyn answers anyway, seemingly casual.

The room becomes quiet and Dwyn turns to look at Grey on instinct, already finding his comforting eyes on her.

"Are you okay?" Debbie asks softly.

"Better everyday," Dwyn lies without missing a beat and smiles at Debbie, blinking slowly with her usual glittering eyes.

Debbie doesn’t buy it but surprisingly, she sees no indication of lying. No increased fidgeting, loss of eye contact, hesitation, swallowing or throat clearing. Debbie feels Lou’s eyes on her and they share a knowing look even as Debbie flashes Dwyn a genuine-looking smile. She hopes her niece isn’t as good at debunking lies as she is at telling them, but she doubts Danny would let that slide. Dwyn doesn’t seem to care either way, turning to Lou.

“Where should I put my things, Lou?”

“Oh, there’s an empty room just up the stairs, third one to the right I think.”

Dwyn hums in acknowledgement and carries her chrome luggage up the steps, Grey bounding at her side. The moment she’s out of earshot, the women whisper at Lou to come closer. Lou rolls her eyes, already knowing where this is headed.

“How was lunch?” Daphne.  
“What did the two of you talk about?” Amita.  
“Can we trust her?” Tammy.

Lou waves a dismissive hand. “You can all ask her yourselves at dinner.” She makes to walk off, out the back door, but gives Debbie a purposeful stare before she leaves. Debbie pushes off the comfy couch and follows her out to the area resembling a beachside where Debbie goes to think and the two have most of their private conversations. It's cool out today, a light breeze in the air that blows at Lou's hair to mess it up just a little bit more. Lou approaches the water, staring out at the horizon until she hears Debbie’s boots click close behind her.

“Do you trust her?” Lou asks without preamble.

“I barely know her, Lou.”

Lou huffs, irritated and desperate for Debbie to alleviate the unease building inside her. “I know, Deb, but what does your gut tell you?”

Debbie pauses to think. “I trust Danny.”

Lou rolls her eyes, turning back to the water with her arms crossed. “That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I miss him, Lou!” Debbie yells suddenly, uncharacteristically, then turns away, facing her back against Lou. Lou guesses she’s hiding tears and doesn’t probe. “What do you want me to say? I want to believe her. I don’t want to let Danny down.”

"Look, I get it. I invited her into the loft because of how _much_ I get it, but we’re taking a risk here, Deb. You have to know that.”

Debbie sighs. Warm arms wrap around Debbie's torso and she leans back into Lou's embrace, feeling the three gold chains around Lou's neck pressed against her back. Lou plants a gentle kiss to Debbie's temple, exhaling hot air that pinks Debbie's cheeks.

"She told me about herself, and if what she says is true... It's bad, Deb. Really really bad. I don't- I don't even know how she-"

Debbie turns in her arms, eyebrows furrowed deep.

"What is it? What did she say?"

"Ask her later. She's not shy about it." Lou brings a hand to cradle Debbie's cheek gently, with a smile. "Let's get back in there. She's probably done unpacking."

As expected, Dwyn was already down by the time they returned. What they didn't expect was to see Tammy, who'd been the most wary of Dwyn, laughing along with everyone.

"Everything good?" Dwyn asks with a tilt of her head.

"Yeah," Lou says, finally letting go of Debbie's hand when Debbie lowers herself onto the sofa. Lou perches herself on the armrest, her back bumping Debbie's shoulder occasionally.

"So, Dwyn. What are your plans for the next few days?" Tammy's voice has gotten considerably milder since the last time, Lou and Debbie both notice and simultaneously wonder how the young lady had managed to win her over in the mere minutes they were gone.

"I'm visiting the cemetery tomorrow, and I'm catching a play on Thursday. Haven't really decided on anything beyond that. I'll probably just explore."

"We could take you around, if you're up for that. Most of us are heading home on Wednesday though, so maybe sometime tomorrow?" Amita suggests.

"Heading home?"

"It's really only Deb and Lou that live here, but the rest of us stay in New York too. Not too far actually so we could always meet up again."

"Sounds good," Dwyn agrees gratefully. "I'll be done at the cemetery by midday tomorrow. Anytime after that?"

"Ooh!" Daphne gasps in over-the-top excitement, wiggling her brows. "Let's take you to the Met." She grins mischievously.

Dwyn laughs out loud, eyes twinkling in kind. "Doubt it'd be interesting, considering you guys robbed them blind just a while back."

Most of the ladies smirk in pride, with wide toothy million-dollar grins.

"How did you hear about that?"

Dwyn regards Debbie with a puzzled look.

"Danny was dead by then," Debbie states without a doubt. "Who told you about our plan? Was it Reuben?"

"Who's Reuben?"

"He's part of Danny's crew. Haven't you met them?"

"No. Danny doesn't let me get involved with that part of his life. I pulled my own strings to find you after he passed."

"What strings?"

Dwyn tilts her head, unwavering even when she detects the unnecessary hostility in Debbie's voice. "I didn't _just_ inherit Danny's fortune, you know."

Debbie grits her teeth at Dwyn's nonchalance. "It's _dangerous_ , Dwyn. You're dealing with criminals."

"Everyone in here's a criminal, Debbie."

"We'd never hurt you."

"And I suppose you'd just expect me to believe that," Dwyn mutters with a deliberate eye roll, still audible enough for everyone to hear.

"Danny left you in _my_ care for a reason. Don't you trust him?"

Dwyn purses her lips defiantly. "Well he's not here, is he? And that's rich," she spits out, "coming from someone who turned their back on their partner.”

Debbie’s eyes go wide and glassy, taken aback at the sudden jab.

“Dwyn.” Lou glares in reprimand.

The low clicking of platform heels across the floorboard and out the loft echo throughout the room until Dwyn is fully out the door. They hear her hotwire Lou’s Toyota, the engine revving in an angry, explosive growl until it quietens to a purr, the cracking of gravel beneath the tires as Dwyn takes off, then the noises fade out into nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it can't always be sunshine and rainbows
> 
> happy holidays!


	4. Chapter 4

“Uh, yeah. I’m going to grab a shower before dinner,” Rose mumbles, hurrying off to her room. The others are quick to agree and before they know it, Debbie and Lou are left alone again. It’s always been the two of them, when times got the roughest. Until Debbie decided that what they had wasn’t enough for her anymore and ran off with her new partner, in every sense of the word, Claude Becker. Lou had been devastated, but too angry and betrayed to show it. They hadn’t talked about it since Debbie got put away, but if they don't now, Debbie might never be able to forgive herself.

"Lou, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to-"

"Of course I do," Debbie interrupts immediately, then starts to ramble, as she does whenever she gets nervous. "I've never apologised for taking off with that bastard like that; just came back expecting you to welcome me with open arms, which of course you did, because you're you, and possibly the only person on this planet who could take all the shit I put out and roll with it."

"He played you, Deb. Six years in prison couldn't have been pretty."

Debbie shrugs. "It got better once I got my footing."

It becomes a little tight around Lou's chest as she feels the classic urge to shield Debbie from all the bad shit in the world wash over her. Years ago, she might've just pulled Debbie in by the hand and smothered her with sloppy cheek and temple kisses she knows Debbie hates - but things are different now.

"I'm sorry about everything Lou."

Lou shuts her eyes, frowning slightly with a sigh. "I know."

"And now my niece-" Debbie grimaces, throws the palm of her hand over her forehead and hangs her head against it. "Danny told her everything."

"She's an Ocean - she'd find it out eventually - but you're family, she'll come around."

Debbie narrows her eyes at Lou, then rolls them helplessly. "Her loyalty lies with Danny," she says slowly, like it's such an obvious point. "You heard her, Lou. She doesn't trust me."

"Trust has to be earned, and built. Give her time. Believe me, the walls she's put up are entirely warranted."

"Something to do with that dog?"

"He has a name you know," Lou drawls. "If you want to get on Dwyn's good side, you might wanna start using it. And yes. Ask her about it over dinner."

Debbie shrugs in silent agreement. It turns out she never gets the chance because Dwyn doesn't return to the loft that night at all. Debbie spends the entire night nursing her wine and her worry on the couch, and Lou watches from her room above, wondering where on earth that girl has run off to.

When Tammy shuffles down at seven the next morning, Debbie jumps from lying on the couch, nearly falling face first onto the hardwood floor. 

"Geez Deb!" Tammy hisses, then, "were you here the whole night?"

Debbie groans in reply, cradling her head in her hands as she tries to gather her bearings. Tammy's eyes find the front door and it dawns on her.

"Dwyn didn't come home last night?"

It's ridiculous that they've started referring to the loft as Dwyn's 'home' considering they've known her a grand total of one singular day. Debbie doesn't know whether Danny would be pleased or pissed at both Tammy and her for opening their arms so wide so quickly.

"No, Tam. She didn't."

"Where could she have gone? Does she even know any place in the city?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start searching."

"Nineball could track her cellphone."

"We'd never find her. She's too smart for that." Debbie sighs, deep and low and resigned. "All I can do is wait."

"Well, wait upstairs. You need sleep, Deb. I'll wake you once she's back."

"I don't want to fail him, Tam. The last thing he saw me do was get thrown into prison. I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Tammy sucks in a constricted breath, approaching the couch. She hasn't had such intimate conversations with Debbie since the last time they'd run a con together; when she was still fully submerged in the thievery business, pre-marriage, pre-children.

"This is your second chance to be there for him when you couldn't. He wanted her with you, Deb."

Debbie shakes her head. "I'm fucking it up already."

"Do you know how long it took for me to learn how to be a mom?" Tammy laughs, nudging Debbie in the shoulder gently. "I'm still learning. It takes time, Debbie. Rushing it never ends well."

The light creaking of the stairs breaks the conversation and the pair look up to see Rose and Daphne, followed by Lou, descend.

"Morning."

Lou stares at Debbie, and Debbie instantly knows that she was up nearly all night too.

"Where's Dwyn?" Daphne wonders aloud. 

"Out." Debbie sighs, getting up and heading to her room upstairs for some much needed rest. When she reaches the top of the stairs, she turns back to Tammy. "The second she's back."

Tammy nods.

When Debbie rolls into bed, she can finally feel the extent of the discomfort in her back from sleeping in an atrocious posture all night. It feels as though her bones have been rearranged to dig into her muscles, jabbing and stabbing her with every turn she makes. She sighs in defeat after ten minutes of trying to find the best position, settles flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. The pain in her back dulls into a ubiquitous throbbing throughout her body that miraculously lulls her into slumber. Two hours later, Debbie stirs awake. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes, watching the ceiling come into full view then turns on her side to curl into the sheets. She blinks at the sight of her niece reading in the corner of the room, opting to sit on the floor rather than the perfectly comfortable lounge chair right beside her. Dwyn looks up at her with gentle eyes, features soft as they'd been when she first entered the day before.

"You're back," Debbie rasps, voice still thick with sleep.

"I brought breakfast." Dwyn picks up the white paper bags on the lounge chair and crawls onto Debbie's bed without invitation. Grey remains lying by the door. "I got croissants and cinnamon scrolls."

"My favourites."

Dwyn gazes down at Debbie's still-curled form, a slight smile breaking her otherwise placid expression.

"Danny told you, I'm guessing."

"He made me promise that my first meal with you would be croissants and cinnamon scrolls from your favourite cafe. He said you guys used to go together."

"We did, yeah," Debbie mumbles before taking a bite of the cinnamon scroll. Her eyes roll back and she groans in satisfaction. "Can't be beat."

Dwyn chuckles, trying the croissant. Her laugh fades and expression mellows. "The ladies told me you were up all night."

Debbie matches her look with quiet composure.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Aunt Deb. And I'm sorry I snapped at you yesterday."

Debbie hums with a mouthful of hazelnut-cream-filled croissant, tossing the familial term from Dwyn around her brain lightly. She chews and swallows when she realises Dwyn is waiting for her to speak.

"It's okay," Debbie verbalises her hum. "You were right. I took Lou for granted and betrayed her, how could I expect you to trust me? It was a mistake, but I'm working on it and I'll work on being a better aunt too."

Debbie watches as Dwyn's eyes crease above the croissant she's munching, wrinkled at the outer corners from a soft smile. 

"Danny loved you," Dwyn says suddenly. "He spoke the heavens of you. Wanted his watch back though."

Debbie smirks, lifting her wrist to eye-level. "It was the first time I managed to swipe anything from him."

Dwyn grins, pulling out the chain around her neck from under her top. She's changed out of her blouse, Debbie realises. Strung on the chain is a familiar gold ring.

"Swiped it from Danny." Dwyn winks, and throws the little jewelry back under her navy shirt. "I think he maybe took me in because he saw you in me. He always talked about what a pair we'd make. I suspect he didn't introduce us sooner because he thought we'd run a muck and give him an aneurysm."

Debbie laughs, instinctively reaching out to tuck several loose strands of hair behind Dwyn's ear.

"We definitely would've." Debbie grins. "Speaking of run a muck... Where were you last night?"

"Drove out into the wild, somewhere quiet. Slept in Lou's car, under the stars. It was nice."

"It's dangerous to be out alone at night."

"I know," Dwyn says in that distinct 'yes-mommm' sounding drawl teenagers use when they whine. "I just wanted some air. I flew here for your signature, I wasn't expecting to get this acquainted with Danny's family. He always kept us apart because he wanted me to stay out of the darker side of things. I guess he knew that most Oceans would see a young girl as a valuable distraction ploy for the team. He told me to run from any Ocean that isn't you. I've been on edge since he died, afraid I'd be found without Danny around."

"Most of us are harmless, but some can be a little... Problematic. It's a fine line between stealing money and stealing lives."

"Seems like a pretty far jump to me."

Debbie chuckles. "Not to everyone. Anyway, I'm here now," Debbie assures, and surprise at Debbie's words brews in Dwyn like a hurricane, full-force and sucking her back into a vortex of familiar, protective territory that she once stood in with Danny. "Don't vanish like that again, okay?"

Dwyn cocks her head to the side curiously, almost in a challenge. "I'm used to doing as I please."

"Well, unless you want me to lose sleep for the rest of my life..."

"Got it, got it," Dwyn grumbles. "You're Danny's sister all right."

"Excuse me?"

"You're both such nags," Dwyn sighs dramatically, earning a back-hand smack from Debbie across the shoulder. Dwyn laughs with her final bite of pastry. "These are so sugary. I need some tea. You want some? Or are you going back to sleep?"

Debbie checks the watch on her nightstand and slips out of bed. "I'll go down with you," she decides, helping to pack up the mess from their breakfast. Dwyn clutches the bag of trash as they descend the stairs with Grey by their side and Debbie's hand on Dwyn's shoulder. Debbie instantly sees multiples of the same white paper bag splayed on the coffee table and the ladies gathered around.

"Oh thank goodness you two are back to normal!" Rose exclaims in exasperation, a cream puff in hand.

"Does that mean no more staying out at night?" Tammy chides kindly, raising her brows at Dwyn.

"More importantly, does that mean no more stealing my car?"

Dwyn laughs at Lou, dumping the paper bag in the bin. "You've got enough money to buy a hundred cars."

"Not the point."

"And what is the point? Stealing is bad?" Dwyn eyes the ladies mischievously with a tilt of her head, daring them to counter her.

Lou flicks a rubber band at her. "Are you never going to let us teach you morals."

Dwyn grins, plonking herself next to Nineball who's unsurprisingly smoking. "Smells good."

"Thanks." The hacker chuckles in amusement and scratches Grey behind the ear when he comes to lie at her feet.

"Don't even think about it." Debbie raises a disapproving finger at Dwyn who smirks in return.

"I was promised a tour?" Dwyn reminds them.

"Yeah, we didn't know how long you and Debbie were going to take to make up."

Dwyn tilts her head to the side with a smile and a curious glance at Debbie. "We're good, aren't we?"

"Yes. Everyone get changed. We'll head out in thirty minutes."

The buzz of the city settles comfortably around them as they stroll down the familiar pathway towards the Metropolitan. Dwyn floats, light and carefree, and Lou glides, effortless and full of swagger. The pair stick beside each other, chatting and laughing in front of Debbie and Tammy.

"They seem to be hitting it off."

"Lou's always been good with people."

"Takes two hands to clap." Tammy smiles and gestures towards Dwyn, who spots them out of the corner of her eye, turns around, grins, then continues her conversation with Lou.

"Danny has a kid. I don't think I've completely come to terms with that yet."

"You will soon, give it time. She's got so much of Danny in her. What I knew of him, at least."

"No, you're right. She's almost impossibly like him. Brilliant, maybe too brilliant for her own good. Equally reckless and blunt. It'll get her in trouble."

"She definitely knows her way out of sticky situations. She's not a baby, Deb."

"I know. I can't help it. The thought of her dealing with Danny's death all on her own all this time is..."

"Yeah, she's a strong one."

Dwyn whistles in front of them, snapping her fingers and pointing firmly at her right foot. "Heel." she orders, and Grey snaps his head back to her, instantly recovering from his split-second distraction by the baby in a stroller nearby. Lou remarks about how impressive his obedience is, and they divert to talking about Grey for the rest of the walk.

"Ever thought about taking her with you the next time you visit Danny? She probably didn't get to go this morning," Tammy suggests, eyes still trained on the now perfectly alert pup trotting by Dwyn's side.

"Maybe tomorrow."

"It'll be good for you too, Deb. You know we worry about you. You never tell us what you're really feeling. Maybe this way you both can heal together."

Debbie only smiles, giving a small nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas (if you celebrate it) and happy holidays (if you don't)!


	5. Chapter 5

They whiz through New York, the tourist attractions in the day - The Met, Lady Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, Broadway, showing Dwyn the nooks and crannies that the average tourist might not notice, and the local attractions at night - namely Nineball's bar, because Lou's club isn't exactly service dog friendly. Grey would be crushed underfoot. They list off their drink orders to the bartender one after the other, Dwyn rounding it off with a vodka soda.

"You's drinking?"

"You're not going to card me, are you?"

Nineball quirks a brow at Debbie.

"Danny bought you your first beer when you were thirteen," Dwyn argues.

Debbie rolls her eyes, waves a hand at Nineball to let it slide. "He really told you everything, didn't he? That idiot. How am I supposed to keep you in check if you know every bad thing I've ever done?"

Dwyn grins from beside her. "Should've been a better kid, Aunt Deb."

"Danny instigated most of it."

" _Oh,_ " Lou drawls devilishly. "That's not what _I_ remember."

"Oooooh!" Daphne squeals. "I want details."

Lou recounts incident after incident, Debbie huffing and groaning in indignation after every single one, sometimes rambling off excuses, sometimes not even being able to because - come on, shoving her homework into her horse's mouth was so clearly on her. Who else was she going to blame for that one? Sweet, charming Maximus? By the end of the night, Lou has everyone in stitches, everyone except Debbie, whose eyes are so sore from rolling she might consider gauging them out of their sockets altogether. Some of the stories pull a chuckle out of her though, takes Debbie down a secluded walkway on memory lane that she doesn't often let herself visit but definitely loves. When Dwyn lifts a finger to call for yet another drink, Debbie grabs it, glares pointedly enough that Dwyn relents, takes Debbie's hand instead, wraps both arms around Debbie's tummy from the back, perching her chin on Debbie's shoulder and giving her an adorable squeeze that sends the ladies melting into wide grins.

"Aw, you two."

"Never could imagine Debbie being a mom, until now."

"I'm not her mom," Debbie insists, trying to counter their attention dryly.

"Makeshift momma," Constance teases with a hoarse laugh. The rest are drunk enough to find that funny, cackling along at the joke as Debbie groans. It's gotta be illegal that her friends are making her deal with all this shit sober. Couldn't they choose another designated driver if they were planning on deliberately pushing her buttons? These fucking kids, Debbie sighs as she sneaks a peek at Grey by Dwyn's feet. He looks bored. Dwyn chuckles too, leaning her head to the side until her chin slides off Debbie's shoulder - would've slammed it right onto the bar counter if it weren't for Debbie's quick reflexes, hand flying up swiftly to block the drop. Dwyn would've seen stars, and blood. A lot of blood. That tips Debbie over the edge, her instinctive protectiveness over the girl sparking a contained irritation at how stupid they all are when they're wasted.

"Another round!" Amita shouts, the worst at holding her liquor among the entire group. Debbie shakes her head firmly at the bartender and receives an amused nod.

"Let's take this back to the loft. Pick up your stuff. I'll get the check."

Debbie stands, and Dwyn whines at the loss of material to hug. Grey pops up instantly, knocks his head against Dwyn's calf. So her niece is a touchy drunk. Well, isn't that just fucking _splendid_ news. As if she didn't have enough to worry about when Dwyn spent the previous night out - now she knows she actually _has_ a reason to be worried.

Debbie settles the check amidst the grumbling from the ladies.

"Designated driver?" the bartender asks sympathetically, scanning the group with mild dread. Debbie scoffs, hands him a stack of bills, and wrangles the others out and into the SUV. Constance yells along with Amita and Daphne throughout the car ride, and Debbie can't decide whether it's worse to turn the music up and let them belt out the lyrics, or listen to their illogical screams and ramblings. She finally settles, by a hair, to stick with the former. At least it's a little bit more coherent even though it's still absolute shit. Lou reaches out to play with her long hair once in a while, legs kicked up and crossed at the ankles on the dashboard from the passenger seat. 

Debbie swats Lou's restless hands away with a laugh every time. "You're going to make me crash the car."

"Sleep with me tonight," Lou purrs.

Debbie glances over, smiles as she makes a right. When they finally pull up to the industrial parking area, Debbie calls for everyone to get out. It takes a while, Dwyn and Tammy having fallen asleep during the short ride. Debbie takes Tammy, loops an arm under her shoulders, and around her back, helping her into the loft with the other giggling ladies. Lou tries to get Dwyn, manages to help her out once Grey hops off her lap, but they mostly stumble together in a chaotic mess once Dwyn is on her own two - highly unstable - feet. Debbie rushes out to bring them both in, groaning at their combined weight and nonsensical mumblings in her ears. She guides them to Lou's room first, drops her off, then to Dwyn's room, with Grey bobbing by her side. She watches as Dwyn crawls into bed and curls up into a ball. Right smack in the center of the queen-sized bed, she looks small and fragile and thoroughly spent. Debbie grabs the make-up wipes on the desk, helping to clean the make-up off the girl’s face, then draws the duvet over her sleeping form, lays it such that it doesn't reach past her chin to cover her face. She grabs a couple extra wipes for herself and Lou, and hears Dwyn mumble something in her sleep, soft and unintelligible, but pays no mind to it. As gentle as she can, she brushes the hair out of her niece's face, swipes her thumb over her cheekbones soothingly, then leaves with a final gentle pat to the back of her head.

When she gets back to Lou's room, the woman is passed out cold, sprawled to take up nearly the whole bed. Debbie sighs, going over to clean off Lou’s make-up and shift her long limbs out of the way. Lou groans in a complain, but stops when Debbie curls into her side, locks her arms around Lou's waist from behind and spoons her. The blonde hums mindlessly, sighing out of sheer high bliss. Debbie tries not to think about the deadly hangover all eight ladies will have in the morning and the fact that she'll have to continue dealing with them - her worst nightmare. Her last thought before she drifts off into slumber is: maybe she'll get lucky and die in her sleep.

She doesn't, of course she doesn't. Instead, she wakes at 9am - an ungodly hour considering how late they got back last night - to Lou's loud groans of protest, pushing her away like she's taking her to the slaughter. Debbie growls, gladly breaks their spooning and turns over to face her back to Lou, trying to fall back asleep.

"God," Lou rasps, pressing her palm to her forehead. She looks over. "Deb? Deb, what are you doing here?"

"You asked me to sleep with you last night."

Lou makes a sound. "Did I?"

Debbie huffs irritably, tired of the noise and just wanting more sleep. She forces herself up roughly, yanks the sheets off and throws them to the side. Even with her pounding head, Lou can tell Debbie's patience is wearing thin. It brings back terrifying memories. The last time this used to happen, she stayed silent and one day Debbie just stopped coming home altogether. So Lou reaches out weakly, fumbles until she feels skin beneath her fingers, then holds on.

"Lou," Debbie says sternly.

"Why do you keep _leaving?_ " Lou mutters quietly like she's asking herself, eyes clouding over, her fingers already losing their grip.

Debbie spins, alert now from the instant, intense guilt building up inside her. One look and she knows that the alcohol definitely hasn’t left the blonde’s system, because Lou is never _this_ outright with her feelings, always trying her best to don the strong, fearless face to hide her actual emotions. Debbie twists her wrists, pulls them out of Lou's hold and takes her hands instead.

"I'm not going anywhere," Debbie says, squeezing Lou's hands. "Okay?" She squeezes tighter. " _I'm not going anywhere._ "

Lou doesn't respond, just drops her hands to the sheets because she's too exhausted to hold them up anymore. She stares at the white fabric around them, not crying, just blank and vacant. Debbie rubs against her palms, presses on her fingertips, runs her hands up and down Lou's arms, thighs, strokes her cheeks, trying to trigger every neuron in her skin to fire - force her to _feel_ Debbie's presence because she's clearly not listening to words.  
"Lou?" Debbie murmurs after a while.

The blonde looks up at her, eyelids fluttering over hollow eyes. Staring right at Debbie, a realisation dawns inside of her. Lou's eyes start to shift, restoring the mask of indifference she's spent the last six years perfecting. Lou has never been as emotionally open with her since she came back, Debbie realises. Even when she's intoxicated, all Debbie gets is one honest, vulnerable statement, then blank silence, no matter how she tries to coax the blonde to talk. Lou squeezes her eyes shut, shakes her head as she looks down at her hands. When she looks back up, she's forcing a small smile and heading to the bathroom to freshen up, completely ignoring everything that just happened. Debbie wants to ignore it too, but she can't live knowing that Lou's letting this fear eat her from the inside out. She follows Lou into the bathroom and hugs her from the back by the sink before starting to brush her teeth too. She turns to face Lou.

"How's your head?"

"Like it's being smashed between an elephant's foot and a wire mesh."

Debbie chuckles, reaching out to brush the bangs out of Lou's blue eyes. They hold the eye contact a little longer than necessary, looking utterly ridiculous with toothbrushes poking out from between both their lips. They grin. Once they're done rinsing their mouths of toothpaste, before Lou gets to even begin washing her face, Debbie grabs hold of her, pins her against the wall and closes the distance, kissing her without hesitation, without doubt. Lou gives a yelp of surprise, then easily melts into a moan at the softness against her lips and firmness on her hips. Debbie pulls away after she's certain she has Lou's full and undivided attention, a little more than that, if she's being honest.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispers - only for Lou's ears.

Under Debbie's scrutiny and persistence, Lou finds that she has nowhere to run. She either takes Debbie at her word or pushes her away, but she can't laugh it off or make an excuse to leave - knows Debbie won't let it slide right now. Lou nods, the most on-the-fence response she can think of. Debbie kisses her again, hums into it and Lou can feel the sound fuel the warmth blooming in the pit of her stomach. She pulls Debbie into her, deepens the kiss as her hands weave into Debbie's endlessly long, thick hair, tugging on it such that she gets Debbie's mouth exactly where she wants it, then tilts it all the way back so her neck is exposed. Lou kisses, nips, then licks to soothe the column of Debbie's neck, earning a contented sigh.

"Lou?" they hear Constance yell from outside the room. Lou groans, sagging against Debbie. "Lou, where's the advil?"

“Maybe she’ll go away if we stay quiet,” Lou whispers.

“You in there? Can I come in? I’m coming in!” Constance hollers, pushing her way through the door and entering the bedroom without waiting for permission. Lou swears under her breath, leaving the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. She glares daggers at Constance, pointed and lethal like she’s out for blood. Constance looks too battered to notice. “Hey man, where’s the advil?”

“You dipshit,” Lou growls. Constance frowns in confusion, becomes even more bewildered when she hears the tap start running. “It’s in the first drawer to the right of the kitchen sink.”

“M‘kay thanks,” she shrugs.

Debbie slinks out when she hears the door shut, all fresh and ready for the day. She smiles at Lou like she knows how much this is killing her, pulls her in for a quick peck to appease her.

“Go wash up. I’ll see you downstairs.”

Lou sighs, nods begrudgingly and lets her gaze linger until Debbie is fully out the door.

It’s only when she finishes patting her face dry that she stops to think: what the fuck kind of morning was that? Waking up with a splitting headache, making out with her best friend slash used-to-be lover, almost giving a free show to the youngest - second youngest, counting Dwyn - in their band of thieves. And just when she thought things were starting to settle after the Met heist. Dwyn showing up at their doorstep really stirred the pot. Still, a night out laughing always tends to bring people together. The girl might be a fresh high school graduate, but she sure could keep up when it came to drinking. Lou vaguely remembers Dwyn hugging her north of fifteen times throughout the entire night, remembers spotting Dwyn's hand reaching out for Tammy, Daphne, Nineball - a different person with every drink she downed. They were with familiar company, so Lou didn't worry - she was also way too hammered to process anything. Point is now she isn't, and she knows it's a serious problem for a sweet, beautiful seventeen year old girl to crave all forms of physical contact any time she has a single drop of alcohol - especially if she has a tendency to run off on her own in times of heightened stress, like Dwyn does, at least from what they've seen so far. Despite the girl's persistent habit of rebutting every semblance of guidance they've tried to give her, Lou knows this is definitely something they will have to talk about, however much she might not want to.

Lou makes her way down, immediately sees the ladies concurrently nursing a similar throbbing headache, Grey the only one running around happily, chasing imaginary butterflies. From her periphery, she sees Debbie step out from the kitchen and smile at her, handing her a mug of what appears to be hot tea.

"Advil?" Tammy, ever the caring mom, asks, offering the packet of pills.

"I'm good," Lou waves it away, reaching for a 1 litre bottle of water instead. She starts out chugging it, then slows to sips. When she tilts the bottle back down and caps it, she takes the hand that Dwyn is reaching out to her. Dwyn smiles, pulling Lou down next to her on the floor, and starts peeling the banana in her other hand, from the bottom end, the way monkeys do it. It makes Lou laugh, but she takes a bite when Dwyn holds it out to her.

"Did you eat?" Lou asks on her third bite.

Dwyn hums mindlessly, pulls on the peel sections a little further and offers it to Lou again. Lou insists she takes a few bites, refuses to eat more if she doesn’t, so Dwyn takes the bites with an eyeroll.

"What are we doing today?"

"Sleeping. It's like the older you get, the longer it takes for hangovers to go away. I don't think my brain will let me move," Amita groans.

"I'm leaving for home in about an hour," Tammy says. "I have to get back in time to cook lunch for Max and Camilla."

"You can't drive hungover, Tammy."

"It's been hours, Dwyn. I drank a lot of water before sleeping last night. I'm fine now."

"Water doesn't really help the alcohol leave your body. It replenishes the water lost so it helps with hangovers, which is probably why you feel fine, but your liver works at a pretty fixed pace - not fast enough for you to drive for at least another few hours."

She receives a wave of frowns, everyone turning to her like she's grown two heads.

"How do you even know that? You're not even drinking age," Tammy asks incredulously.

Debbie matches Tammy, quirks an expectant brow at Dwyn, waiting for her explanation. 

Dwyn shrugs. "The drinking age in Singapore is 18. I'm 17. Close enough."

Lou chuckles beside her, knowing she shouldn't encourage the behaviour but can't help finding the similarity amusing. She was that kid too - drinking just before she was supposed to, finding excuses for it, winding up with girls in the bathroom of clubs, then ending it before things got serious, always playing just a little too close to fire, but never with it. Not until Debbie.

Debbie comes over, smacks her on the head lightly in reprimand. Dwyn coughs in a bid to hide her laughter, meeting Lou's eyes with her own mischievous crescent ones.

"You two are going to be the death of me." Debbie turns towards Tammy. "You're not driving anywhere. I'll take you home."

"Are you going to take them _all_ home? Because none of the others can drive either."

Debbie groans. "No. The rest of you can either wait for a few hours or stay one more night, unless you have secret children you have to run home to that I'm unaware of."

They spend the entire morning conked out, only waking to down water like it's a cure. By the time late afternoon rolls around and Debbie is back from dropping Tammy off, Lou, Dwyn and Daphne are up watching a movie on the projector.

"They slept together, you know, the two of them," Daphne says with a nod at the screen, dropping Hollywood gossip throughout, as she does every time they put a film on.

"Who _hasn't_ he fucked?" Lou mutters in exasperation.

"Me?" Daphne replies smugly, winks.

Lou scoffs, and Dwyn laughs.

"You seemed pretty easy with Claude Becker on the night of the Met. Outside the costume institute?" When Daphne gives her an offended gasp, Lou smirks. "We had the entire place on surveillance, didn't you know? Nineball was having a good laugh watching you two get. it. on."

Dwyn whacks her in the arm.

"Don't be a prick."

"Oh come on, Daphne knows I love her."

"Sorry, what? Didn't quite catch that, I'm gonna need you to speak up a little."

Lou rolls her eyes, then quirks her lip slightly. "It's even more fun looking back on it, knowing he got played."

"Yeah, he got real boring real fast," Daphne grumbles with a dramatic sigh. "All looks, no substance. Typical golden boy. Who knew he'd be smart enough to fuck Debbie over?"

Debbie coughs from behind them, coming over after she'd gotten herself a glass of water from the kitchen.

"Love blinds, huh?"

Debbie glares at Daphne. "I didn't love him." Lou shifts uncomfortably, reaching out to comb her fingers through Grey's fur, internally debating whether she should just up and leave.

"I meant the money."

Debbie holds her stare. "Yeah, the money was good."

"Greed can kill," they hear Dwyn mutter under her breath, looking at the ground blankly. When her eyes snap back up and she notices them staring, she brushes it off with a smile. "Can you take me to the cemetery, Aunt Deb? I didn't get to go this morning."

Debbie blinks at the sudden request, looks at Lou and Daphne to search for the same puzzlement. She finds it, especially in Lou, who frowns.

"Right now?" Debbie asks.

"Mmhm. I can take myself, if you're too tired."

"No, I can drive," Debbie says immediately. "We'll buy dinner back."

The drive is quiet, Debbie sneaking peeks at Dwyn in the passenger seat and Grey in the back seat. They don't have to pass through the busy city, so it's peaceful and nice and Debbie turns the heating up a little.

"Danny would be happy to know you've found your way back to her," Dwyn says suddenly.

It catches Debbie off guard, something that rarely happens.

"Lou, I mean," Dwyn clarifies.

"I messed up," is all Debbie can think to respond with. "I'm just glad she took me back."

"What if she didn't?"

Debbie turns fully to look at her - really _look_ at her - and with the most sincerity she thinks she's ever spoken with, turns back to the road and mutters: "It would've destroyed me."


	6. Chapter 6

The cemetery is relatively empty, gray everywhere and sad like it always tends to look, silent apart from the steady clicks of Debbie and Dwyn's boots.

"Why aren't there any flowers?"

"Hm?"

Dwyn tilts her head, tips it towards the empty gold flower holders screwed into the wall. Debbie shrugs.

"Is this your first time here?"

Dwyn nods. "I haven't been back to New York since..."

Debbie takes her hand. It comes from instinct, Debbie doesn't have past experience to draw from for these kinds of things. She's been far touchier the past few days than her entire lifetime. Even with Lou, they've always tried to keep things between them a little more private, away from prying eyes. Especially after everything, with their relationship still so shaky. Yet with her little niece who popped out of nowhere, it's somehow been surprisingly easy. Of course, it can still feel a little too cheesy at times, but Debbie goes along with it because it seems to calm Dwyn down - any form of contact, Debbie realised this morning, when Dwyn greeted her good morning with a hug - seems to work wonders in soothing the girl. On its own, it doesn't rile Debbie up too much. Dwyn doesn't reach out and clamour for physical attention from strangers - knows her boundaries and is, according to Lou, understandably guarded around most people. Debbie's only concern is that her favour for physical contact seems to grow exponentially with her blood alcohol level.

"You get touchy when you're drunk, you know?"

Dwyn scoffs lightly in a smile. "Am I not touchy sober?"

Debbie's lips quirk up at the corner. "Less. Slightly."

"Does it bother you?" Dwyn asks, not pulling her hand away, but willing to, at Debbie's word.

"No," Debbie tugs Dwyn closer to her side, links their elbows. "It feels natural coming from you. Maybe because I didn’t really know you that long before you became touchy." 

Dwyn laughs, then cuts it off with a deep breath, turning her eyes to the ceiling. "When we were kidnapped," she starts, "they made all the kids live in a cage. We all slept together, every single night. After a while it just became normal to feel something pressed to every part of my body, all the time. It was actually harder for me to be without it, after Danny got us out. Then he bought me my first service dog and everything got better. I don't think I've been physically alone for a second since then."

They both look down at Grey, faithfully laying not at, but _on_ Dwyn's feet - ensuring she always has that as an anchor should she need it.

"Do you want to talk about it? Everything that happened?"

Dwyn smiles at her as they stop in front of Danny's niche. She relays everything she told Lou - top to bottom, left to right, all of it, goes even deeper in detail because she feels like she can tell it better in this big empty space as opposed to a little eatery with spectators. The warmth of Debbie's arm looped through hers helps to keep her talking when the name staring back at her leaves her lips. It's harder when it's right in front of her - Danny Ocean - etched into marble with 2018 printed right below. Everything becomes that much more real, as if not being able to hold her own father wasn't real enough. She shakes when she speaks, but makes it through the whole story. Debbie doesn't respond immediately, but it chokes her up, Dwyn can _feel_ the palpable second-hand anger radiating out of her.

"I almost hate Danny for keeping us apart all this time," Debbie finally whispers.

"He did what he thought was best. For the both of us."

Debbie shakes her head slowly, sighs. "How could not knowing my niece be the best for me?"

"Danny didn't think you were mature enough to watch over me. You hadn't sorted out your priorities yet, you were still chasing after the wrong things, willing to give up the right things for them."

"And I proved him right. When I left Lou."

"That was the point of confirmation, but he says you were like that from long before. And until you learned to put your greed aside, there was no way he was going to trust you with our secret. Too many people could have tried to buy you over."

"I wouldn't have told anyone," Debbie insists.

"Danny was too protective over me to risk it. When I started showing improvements with my mental health, you and Lou were still rigging bingo on the other side of the globe. Danny got me into training - martial arts, language classes, precision driving, blending into crowds, the _art of disappearing_ \- he would always call it." Dwyn laughs softly, full of nostalgia. "He didn't tell me explicitly until much later, but a part of me always knew he was teaching me those skills not just for self-protection, but so I could take care of you once we did meet. When you got arrested, Danny made me promise to keep you safe, by any means necessary. I think that was when I first got physically involved with Danny's other life, the illegal parts. I learned very quickly that prison inmates and guards are easy to buy - almost everyone is - if you offer the right kind of motivation."

" _I_ should be the one taking care of _you_."

"Technicalities," Dwyn brushes it off. "I was happy to have something else to focus on, honestly. The psych said keeping busy helped my recovery."

Debbie sighs. "I really was a dumb kid."

Dwyn grins. "Danny says you both were. I think I would've been too, if I had parents like yours."

"We had warm beds and good food at every meal. Nothing compared to what you went through."

Dwyn laughs, squeezing Debbie's arm lightly in her version of a reprimand. "It's not a competition, Aunt Deb. Not every trauma or abuse is physical."

Debbie squeezes back, sighs. "Did Danny tell you much about our family?"

"Just that if they found out about me, they would hunt me down. He told me bits and pieces about different people, but he really mostly talked about you."

A breeze sweeps through the room, whipping their hair up softly. Dwyn turns her head to study the gloomy scenery outside, over Debbie's shoulder.

"Our dad was hard on us," her aunt draws her attention back. "He's in the business of crime - all kinds - like his father was. He gave us a pass until we were 10, which according to him, was already being generous. Danny grew past the comfort stage first, of course. Our father got him doing runs to start, small ones, proving his worth, then getaway driver, broker, dealer, buyer, seller. Danny never told me until we got older, but I already knew. He followed our father everywhere, came back with bruises and bundles of cash that made my father so _fucking_ happy," Debbie spits in disgust, gritting her teeth. "He wasn't as bad with me. I thought it was because I was a girl and he wanted to protect me, his only daughter," she sighs, "but one day I heard him and Danny arguing in the study. Danny was negotiating for me, trying to get me the smallest, most insignificant role in the next job. Then I realised, it was Danny who had been watching over me all this time. He was trying to keep me out of that life because he knew how dangerous it is, especially for a young girl. I remember how angry he was when I told him I wanted to be a con-artist like him years later," Debbie laughs. "All that hard work of trying to keep me straight - down the drain, just like that."

Dwyn grins. "If he was here, he'd think the same of me. How was your mom like? Danny didn't talk much about her."

"Our mom... She was nice, but she loved my dad. Enough to turn a blind eye to every bad thing he was doing. She cooked our meals and washed our clothes, but past our tenth birthday, that's about as maternal as she was with us. I really only had Danny, until Lou came along." Debbie turns to her. "Do you remember your biological parents?"

With a contemplative hum, Dwyn tilts her head slightly. "I didn't know my parents for very long, but I knew them enough to love them. We were poor, almost everyone in our village was. My mother always told me not to worry about it, that having more meant wanting more, and she'd witnessed too many lives being taken by greed already. It was important to her that I didn't fall into that, so she made it a point to say grace for every meal my dad and her managed to put on the table. They would take me to the market with them every Sunday - it wasn't common practice for men to come along, but my father insisted that marketing was a family thing. We would hear stories about the rebels and crooks when we went around town, but my parents would tell me not to worry, that I was safe with them." Dwyn swallows the lump in her throat, closing her eyes to compose herself. Grey whines, sitting up and huffing in concern. She reaches down to give him an assuring pat. "When I got old enough to start school, it got difficult. My mother had to start taking more jobs to pay for my school fees. And because of that, she couldn't take me all the time. Still, they refused to let me walk the whole way to school. Even though they had to fork out more money to pay for it, they made me take the bus so I wouldn't be on the streets so much - I just had to walk from our home to the bus stop and back after school. It wasn't too far a walk, but I knew they still worried, every time I left the house." A deep breath. "And one day, when I was walking out to the bus stop in the morning, a van drove past and someone from inside dragged me in. I didn't even have time to scream. They knocked me out, and when I woke up, well, you know the rest. Until Danny came along, I thought my life was over. When he got us out and I became a little more stable, he tried to help me find my parents. The local hospital said they were shot and left to die on the streets, in one of the most dangerous neighbourhoods in the area. The cops suspect they were there trying to get information about where to find me."

"I'm sorry, Dwyn."

Dwyn shakes her head, hard, like she’s trying to shake the memory out, sucks in a deep ragged breath and covers her face with both hands, screaming into them. Debbie freezes, looks down at Grey for help, but it’s over before she knows it. Dwyn looks up again, not crying - to Debbie’s relief - but heavy-lidded, pouty and hunched over. She stares at Danny’s name for the longest time. Debbie follows suit.

“Can we go home?” Dwyn asks quietly.

Debbie is almost too quick to agree, would literally do anything to cheer her niece up. Right before they leave, Debbie turns back to look at Danny’s name one last time. She says a silent prayer to him on their way out, asks for his guidance in what to say and do. _You know her the best_ , Debbie pleads. She doesn’t think she’s so desperately asked Danny for anything before.

Dwyn sits in the back this time because she wants to hold onto Grey. She doesn’t want to talk, which is fine by Debbie, except the silence is giving Debbie space and time to think - and thinking about what happened to Dwyn makes her really angry. She’s livid by the time they get home. When they both walk into the loft silent with a thick tension swimming around them, everybody on the first floor glances at one another awkwardly, thinking they’ve fallen out again. Just as Lou is about to say something, Dwyn pulls Debbie into a hug, holding on that little bit too long to whisper a muffled _love you, Aunt Deb_ , then lets go when Debbie pats the back of her head gently.

“She told you?” Lou asks after Dwyn retreats to her room quietly.

Debbie nods, rubbing at her temples with both thumbs. “I want to kill someone.”

Lou sighs in agreement. They give the other ladies a brief explanation to satisfy their curiousity, mostly because Debbie doesn’t want Dwyn to have to repeat her story another six times and live through the pain again.

“If Danny was still alive, I’d marry him,” Daphne says.

She receives glares, and a string of "are you serious?", "fuck’s sake, Daph."

“What? It’s a compliment! He’s a hero,” Daphne pretends to swoon.

“Yeah, a hero that would never go for you. Doesn’t he already have some other chick?”

“Her name is Tess, Constance,” Amita corrects.

“Could’ve been me if you guys tried to rob me a little earlier.”

“You weren’t even famous last year.”

“Excuse me?” Daphne gapes in offence at Constance. “Did you not see Living in Manhattan?” Silence. “Oh my god, we’re watching it tonight.”

Everyone groans and just like that, the anger is gone and the conversation shifts to complaints of _you’re watching it yourself_ and _you wish._ When night rolls around, Daphne’s bothering Nineball who’s trying to put the stupid movie on, because _of course_ Daphne is smart enough to ask Dwyn when she comes back down for the delivery dinner Debbie ordered. And _of course_ Dwyn is sweet enough to say “yeah, of course, let’s watch one of your movies.” And _of course_ nobody else would refuse after that.

Halfway through the movie and the food, Debbie looks over at Dwyn who’s curled horizontally on the couch, head on Daphne’s lap but attentively watching the screen. She points and shares whispers and secret laughs with Daphne and Rose throughout the film, seeming to really enjoy it. When Debbie scans the other faces in the room, she sees every pair of eyes plastered to the screen too. Despite the jokes and the sarcasm, Debbie knows everyone here thinks Daphne’s a great actress. It’s their respect for one another’s craft that helps them blend so well together - no one person tries to intentionally overstep any other. Dwyn’s the same, eager and happy to watch people shine without ulterior motive, would rather just enjoy the show and cling onto them to prove how much she adores them. Her capacity to love, despite everything that’s happened to her, is astounding to Debbie. To Lou too, she knows, when the blonde takes her hand and squeezes in understanding. Debbie looks over, and in the darkness, with the lights from the screen dancing across Lou’s features, Debbie leans in and kisses her, quietly, so they don’t attract unwanted attention. Lou smiles into the kiss, sucks on Debbie’s bottom lip before they pull away.

When the end credits start to roll, Dwyn declares movie night a success, grinning at a beaming Daphne who runs up to hug her tightly.

“You’re my new favourite person. Ever.”

Dwyn laughs musically as Grey circles Daphne's legs to join in the fun. It's a load off everyone's shoulders, especially Rose's, that Daphne's finally found someone with the patience to tolerate her shamelessness. As much as the Irish designer loves to be in her company, the actress' melodrama can sometimes get a bit much, even for her. Dwyn seems to handle it perfectly, never once rolling her eyes in exasperation like the rest of them do, not even when Daphne has her back turned. She smiles genuinely, responds just enough so Daphne feels validated, but not encouraged to turn her crazy up further. When Daphne is sufficiently drained after a lot of talking, they all head to bed, grateful to know they won't be waking up with a migraine again.

Dwyn prepares breakfast for them the next morning, because of course a bunch of adults would need a teenager to feed them. She makes frittatas, because they're easy, only require one pan, and still relatively healthy - better than bacon and eggs, she tells herself. They facetime Tammy during breakfast, because the kids are off at school and she's just starting to sort out paperwork for the new shipment of vacuum cleaners her workers have loaded into her new warehouse.

"Are you still going back on Friday, Dwyn?" Tammy asks absentmindedly as she rifles through the loose papers in front of her.

"Mmhm. My flight's at eight in the morning." She looks at Debbie and laughs when she sees a frown. "I'll call an Uber."

"That's not it."

Dwyn watches the smirks on everyone's face grow, but she doesn't get why. Unlike Dwyn, the rest of them knew that Debbie was bound to get attached, it just amuses them that it took so much less than they’d expected.

"You don't have to go, Dwyn," Debbie says, her voice tight.

Dwyn frowns. "What, and stay here?" She asks it in a way that makes Debbie second guess herself. She isn't even sure if staying here is what Dwyn wants.

"You can live here with us," Lou offers. "It's better than being alone in Singapore, isn't it?" She pauses. "Unless... You _aren't_ alone there?"

A light laugh bubbles out of Dwyn. "If that's what you're worried about, you can both relax. If I need friends, I'll just make some." She smiles, a _duh_ kind of cocky shrug.

The ladies can almost feel Debbie's heart drop. How on earth could this girl be so perceptive, yet so completely oblivious at the same time?

"If you go, when will you come back?" Rose asks.

"I don't know. In a year, maybe? I'm thinking of applying for uni next year, so I'll probably find some temporary work in Singapore first and come back to visit before I start my studies."

"A year?" she hears them ask in unison, and knits her brows together.

"What is up with you guys?"

She hears Tammy click her tongue through the call. "We don't want you to go, dummy."

Dwyn scans Debbie's face for confirmation. Now that she knows what she's looking for, she finds it. Clear as day.

"Aw shucks," she pouts, upset at herself for missing it. She reaches out for Debbie, as always, and Debbie obliges, steps into Dwyn's space and stands still as the girls wraps slender arms around her. The overt display of affection doesn't really come as a surprise to the others anymore - they always knew that Debbie's a big softie on the inside, despite trying her whole life to prove otherwise.

"I guess I could find a job here," Dwyn decides, peering up at Debbie who places a gentle hand on her head in agreement. "But," she pauses with a grin, turning to the others, "only if the rest of you promise to come over often. That includes you, Tammy."

And that's that.

The ladies head home after breakfast, leaving Dwyn with Debbie and Lou. She cancels her flight, settles her visa, does all the administrative things herself despite Nineball's offer to do it for her. Not her smartest decision, because it takes her the entire afternoon to sort everything out. She unpacks - properly unpacks - her luggage, emptying it entirely and hanging things up or placing them by her bedside table. Debbie and Lou leave her to it for the most part, watch her stroll to the kitchen from time to time to grab a drink of water, shedding a piece of clothing every subsequent trip. By the time she's down for dinner, Dwyn is in a bandeau and flowy cotton shorts, hair in a messy bun with a sheen of perspiration on her forehead.

"We're not in LA, you know."

The younger girl laughs, tugging her bandeau up at the corner. "It's hot," she says as Debbie lays out the feast for the night. It's takeout - always takeout, but from a place Dwyn's actually familiar with.

"Danny used to take me there whenever I came back to New York."

Debbie learns to get used to this - Danny popping up in conversations he's not even a part of. Her heart doesn’t ache when she hears it anymore, because she has the best reminder of him right in front of her, within arm’s reach, hopefully always.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tags because smut ensues

Weeks soar by, and as if Debbie didn’t already love her niece enough, she finds that having Dwyn by her side makes her the best version of herself she’s ever been. The ladies agree, are quick to comment on it behind Debbie’s back, according to Lou, when they see Debbie show an unexpected emotion or do something out of character. Debbie doesn’t mind, has come to believe that Dwyn brings out nothing but the absolute best in people, and loves knowing that she’s living proof of that.

The biggest surprise of all might be Lou and Debbie's relationship. Previously, without the ladies, they were so often on their own in the loft. One might think that having that kind of privacy would only help with intimacy, but the reality of the situation is that Debbie and Lou have never been closer than with Dwyn around. Not even before Debbie ran off and got herself thrown behind bars. Lou would argue that it is precisely because of the impact Dwyn has made on Debbie's life that's changed everything between them.

Debbie's just slightly older than Lou, but they've both always known that despite the age difference and the persona Debbie tries to put on display, Lou has always been miles ahead in terms of maturity, constantly giving in to Debbie to please her. It's exactly like Danny had told Dwyn. Debbie spent so much of her life chasing after secondary goals while she let the most vital things in her life slip by without giving a rat's ass. With Dwyn around, Debbie has no room to fuck up again, no desire to leave the people she loves behind to pull another billion dollar job just for the hell of it. Her niece constantly reminds her that Lou needs to _see_ affection, it isn't enough for Debbie to just feel it, no matter how intensely. Dwyn reminds her again and again, speckles them throughout the day - before she leaves the house, whenever Lou leaves the room, after Debbie bids her goodnight, until it becomes ingrained in Debbie's mind. It becomes easier for Debbie to just verbalise and actualise her thoughts and feelings. She starts out whispering under the sheets at night, with Lou pressed against her and the lights dimmed down. It takes Lou by surprise, but her heart swells all the same as she dives in for a kiss. What she assumed was just a one-time, spur of the moment kind of thing became more frequent as the days went by, Debbie's attempts at honest communication egged on when she realises that physically showing and talking about her feelings for the blonde almost always ends in sex - mind-numbing, earth-shattering sex that leaves Lou sweaty and breathless and moaning without restraint. On nights like that, Dwyn puts on the thousand-dollar noise-cancelling headphones Lou bought her and lets Halsey sing her to sleep. Loudly. It's a win for everyone.

The ladies pop by once in a while, like they promised, sometimes individually or in pairs, sometimes altogether. Dwyn, of course, likes the latter more, so that’s what they try to do, as often as they can. When the ladies aren’t over, Dwyn spends her time with Lou and Debbie, making them food and letting them buy her clothes, books, and dog treats for Grey in change - their spending spikes a little because they refuse to steal in front of her, but what’s a couple thousand dollars to multimillionaires anyway? She doesn’t end up finding a job after all, not from lack of trying, but because Debbie flat out refuses, insisting that she still has too many places to take her, too many things to show her and too many foods for her to try. It’s mildly ridiculous, because they check off maybe one item on her list per day and just spend the rest of the hours talking or resting. At the rate they’re going, Dwyn doesn't think she'll ever get to go to college - and the craziest thing is, she suspects that her aunt Deb might actually be a gazillion percent okay with that. Still, Dwyn can't possibly live off Lou and Debbie for the rest of her life.

She doesn't say anything, because she knows Debbie will protest, and Dwyn really doesn't want to start another fight. As much as they love each other - maybe _because_ they love each other, Debbie and Dwyn often find themselves at loggerheads. It's usually Debbie getting cross with Dwyn out of worry, or concern, and Dwyn brushing it off like it doesn't matter, because it shouldn't matter, but for some reason, to Debbie, it does. Dwyn doesn't understand, but tries her hardest to. She's always the first to give in. The first to reach out - physically - to envelop Debbie in a tight hug and mutter a sincere _sorry._ Then things go back to normal and everyone sleeps easy at night.

It's the evening before their next full gathering with the ladies. Lou's at her club, giving last minute instructions to her team and reminding the younger girls that it's three fingers from the top - not one, _three_ \- while Debbie and Dwyn are back at the loft playing cards.

"What time are the others coming over tomorrow?"

"Seven. They're coming for dinner. Tammy and Daphne might be a little late. Tammy has to cook dinner for the kids first, and Daphne's coming from a shoot."

Dwyn trades in a card, draws another.

"What are we ordering in?"

"What do you want?" Debbie asks, thumbing the corner of the last card in her hand, contemplating whether to save it or not.

"Constance likes pizza."

Debbie raises a confused brow.

"It's her birthday next month," Dwyn says casually as she rearranges her cards.

"We can meet again next month to celebrate it, you know. But pizza sounds good."

“Call.”

Dwyn lays her cards on the floor and fans them out in one smooth swipe. Debbie scans them, then sighs, throwing hers down in defeat.

“It’s not fair that you’re seventeen and better than me at every single card game.”

Dwyn grins wickedly, gathering the cards in a stack to shuffle them.

“I could teach you, if you’d like.”

Debbie narrows her eyes in mock offense. “How dare you.” 

Dwyn only smiles, setting the cards aside in a neat deck as she pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through the screen.

“Game over?”

“I’m ordering dinner. You and Lou’s favourite Chinese place?”

“Oh. Is it already-” Debbie glances at the analog clock hung high up on the wall across the room from her.

“Should I order for Lou?”

“She’ll be back late.”

“I’ll order anyway,” Dwyn decides. “She never eats over there. We can reheat it when she’s back.”

Debbie hums, tugging her robe tighter around herself as she pushes off the floor. She helps Dwyn up when the girl’s done with the order. When Dwyn heads straight for the cabinet she’s never really allowed to touch, Debbie clicks her tongue, stares at her from where she’s standing next to the fridge.

“Those are for special occasions.”

“You and Lou drink them all the time,” Dwyn argues flatly.

“You’re underage, Dwyn.”

Her niece frowns, and Debbie can already feel the familiar guilt of hypocrisy creeping under her skin every time she says that.

“Well, you’re supposed to learn from my mistakes,” Debbie insists, going over to shut the cupboard door. “You can drink with the ladies tomorrow, but not whenever you like.”

“Why? I’m home, I’m safe, there isn’t anyone here to arrest me.”

“Dwyn,” Debbie warns, her tone clipped to tell her niece it’s not up for debate.

Dwyn glares at Debbie, and the movement of her bottom lip shows that she’s chewing on it from the inside, holding her words back as she’s started to do when she anticipates a fight. She forces herself to nod begrudgingly, turning away to do the unwashed dishes they’d left from lunch. Debbie thinks she should say something, apologise maybe, but their dinner comes and everything seems to fall back to normal. Dwyn suggests they stay in for ladies night tomorrow. Have dinner, watch another movie, catch up. It’s been far too long and there’s probably an endless amount of stories Daphne alone has to share.

Lou only comes back dead in the middle of the night, when Debbie and Dwyn are long past dinner and a shower. When she walks through the door, full make-up, decorated head to toe in expensive leather, a loud, patterned knee length coat, and dangling jewellery, Dwyn grins from behind her laptop screen, leaning against the backrest of the couch.

“Wild night?”

Lou smirks. “Where’s your aunt?”

“In her room. Probably waiting for you. There’s dinner on the counter.” And before Lou can say anything, she adds quickly. “You have to eat it. No excuses.”

Lou shuts her mouth, sighing as she walks into the kitchen, but can’t be too mad when she sees it’s her favourite noodle dish from her favourite Chinese place. She heats the entire container up in a microwave - just barely - and grabs a pair of takeaway chopsticks from their stash in the drawer. She mumbles a quick thanks and presses a kiss goodnight to the back of Dwyn’s head as she passes the girl on the couch and takes her food upstairs.

“Why the hurry?” Dwyn asks, a light tease in her words. She bursts into a laugh when Lou turns back to mock a glare at her, narrowing her eyes in a non-verbal _shut up._

The door to Debbie's room is completely shut close - a rarity, because she usually leaves it slightly ajar in case Dwyn comes looking for her, so Lou assumes Debbie must be asleep. She enters quietly to find dark brown eyes already trained on her. Debbie's eyes flick to the watch by her bedside table. 

"Busy night," Lou explains, shucking off her boots and coat after placing her takeout box on the stack of books Dwyn leaves by the lounge chair.

"Do you think I'm being too hard on Dwyn?"

Lou chuckles, spinning around.

"Where is this coming from?"

"She wanted to drink. I said no, again, and she gave in."

"The usual."

The prolonged silence urges Lou to look at Debbie, sensing a shift in the mood.

"I think," she sighs, going over to sit on the edge of the bed when she's done removing all her jewelry, "you're trying too hard to be the perfect aunt."

"Trying so hard to be good, I'm actually bad," Debbie says.

"Dwyn knows you now," Lou counters gently. "You're family to her. She doesn't want the 'best aunt in the world', or 'Danny's little sister' anymore. She just wants you. Everything else, the expectations - they're all in your head."

Lou takes her hand, presses a kiss to her knuckles as Debbie nods contemplatively, taking in her words.

"Have you showered?"

"Yes," Debbie replies, already loosening her fingers to drop Lou's hand. Lou grips tighter.

"No? Spectacular. Neither have I."

Lou pulls Debbie off the bed with a grin, and as much as Debbie tries to pretend like she's so done with Lou's antics, her lips curl into a small smile, bare feet padding across the wooden floor obediently until Lou's got them both inside the bathroom and shuts the door.

"Did you drink?" Debbie asks when Lou turns and backs her gently against the door.

"I'm not drunk," Lou mutters, leaning in. It's a vague answer that makes Debbie want to roll her eyes again, but her sensory neurons short circuit the second Lou's lips envelop hers. The kiss is warm, soft, a contrast against Lou's firm hands on her hips, pulling her closer, yet pushing her further and further into the door, like she's trying to pin Debbie down. Debbie's eyelids flutter shut against her will, her body melting under Lou's sensual kneading. With a thumb on Debbie's chin, Lou encourages her to open her mouth, allowing their tongues to meet in a dance. The unmistakable sweetness of whiskey swirling over her tastebuds has Debbie's head spinning. There's a moan - Debbie thinks it poured out of her, but with Lou's right hand weaved through the base of her hair and tugging, left hand everywhere else, Debbie's just glad her brain can still autopilot her breathing at all - though she will admit it's doing a pretty shit job, if her stuttered breaths are anything to go by.

When they break apart for air, Lou's pale cheeks are flushed pink, bangs falling into her smokey eyes, thick with liner. It's darker than usual, a stark difference to Debbie's currently-bare face, but if it’s even possible, Lou feels more entranced than ever when she meets Debbie’s rich, hazel eyes.

"God, you are-"

"If it's cheesy, don't say it."

Lou catches her words, laughing a little as she pulls on Debbie's robe tie. It comes undone with one soft tug, silk brushing on silk, smooth as butter, and the front of the robe parts to expose Debbie's black lacy lingerie underneath. Lou swallows, taking a sharp breath before she dives in for another kiss. It heats, easily, and Lou places both hands on Debbie's chest, slipping them under the hems of either side of the robe, rubbing gentle circles on her warm skin. Debbie sighs, responding immediately to the touch with the arch of her back, pressing her body closer to Lou's as her arms snake around Lou's waist. Debbie feels soft, delicate hands running up and over her shoulder, then even softer fabric sweeping past her arms, fluttering down her body to pool at her feet.

"Bikers shouldn't have soft hands," Debbie mumbles when she feels Lou fiddling with her bra clasp.

Lou hums quietly, skating fingertips up and down Debbie's bare back once she successfully removes her bra.

“Would you prefer if they were rough?”

Debbie’s eyes fly open. She stares at Lou, hands frozen on her waist. Her fingers tighten.

“Not if they aren’t yours,” Debbie whispers softly, heart sinking at the thought that despite their spike in love-making recently, Lou is _still_ haunted by Debbie leaving all those years back. For a man, no less. It seems as though every time they take things a little further, Lou questions whether Debbie really wants it.

Lou nods, mindlessly runs her hand over the bumps in Debbie’s spine, down to the small of her back.

Debbie sees the corner of Lou’s lips quirk up in a small, sad smile. It’s gone as soon as it appears, and Lou tries to pretend it never happened, as she always does. She tries to close the distance between them again for another kiss, but Debbie stops her just short. They’ve done this enough times that Debbie knows when Lou isn't up for speaking anymore, knows the cues that say the blonde just wants to _do_ , not think, not talk, but Debbie wants her to know - she can't just kiss everything away. She gives Lou a hard look, watching the blonde blink back at her. Debbie's eyes say it all - they're not going any further unless Lou acknowledges Debbie's concerns. So Lou nods, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

Debbie pulls her in, undresses her, slow and sensual, pressing her lips to every new area of skin revealed, hoping that Lou can feel how sorry she is for abandoning her, abandoning them, and everything they were starting to build together.

Debbie sheds their last piece of clothing - her own underwear - and guides Lou into the steaming shower. They kiss under the shower head, hands exploring wet skin with fervour as water pours down on them like a rampant waterfall. Lou moans loudly when Debbie drags her lips down to her neck, sucking on the pulse point she immediately finds. Lou’s skin is paper thin, pale, and practically bruises upon contact. It doesn’t take much at all. The softest little suck and Lou’s got purple blooming where Debbie’s lips touch. Debbie can’t complain, because it just makes it easier for her to lay a (however imaginative) claim on Lou. It’s really for Debbie’s eyes only, because Lou never leaves the loft without decking herself head to toe with layers upon layers of clothing and jewelry. It’s almost impossible to see anything under all that dramatic chaos.

As Debbie travels down Lou’s body, she feels Lou tense her abdomen in anticipation, muscles rippling where Debbie stops to spare a seductive lick. She makes her way further south, until she’s down on both knees, and uses her hands to part Lou’s legs. Lou groans at the first contact of Debbie’s tongue with her clit, threading her fingers through the brunette’s long, wet hair as a desperate anchor to reality.

Debbie swirls her tongue around the nub, flicks it and plays with different pressures until she feels Lou’s legs start to tremble. She smiles, running her hands over the sides of Lou’s thighs as she moves down to tease Lou’s entrance with long strokes. Pleased to find her already dripping wet, Debbie laps at the sweetness, pushing her tongue as far into Lou’s core as she can get. Lou’s moans are mostly muffled by the rushing water, but Debbie can tell Lou’s close when her knees buckle, forcing her to lean on the wall to hold herself up. Debbie peers up through her lashes, and she is not ready, at all, for the overwhelming emotion that overtakes her. It’s never happened quite so strongly before, but seeing Lou soaking wet, flushed, fingers pulling at her own hair, with her eyes screwed shut and her jaw slack from what appears to be a moan - it takes Debbie's breath away. She stops teasing, actually fucks Lou with quick, firm strokes that draw a string of undeniably audible moans before she finally comes undone with a last cry of Debbie’s name.

“Fuck-” Lou swears breathlessly, eyes still squeezed shut as her whole body throbs. Debbie uses her finger to ride Lou out of her orgasm, guiding her gently down from her high as she stands back up to press her lips to Lou’s parted ones. It takes Lou by surprise. Debbie usually waits until her breathing’s slightly more settled before she initiates anything else. Still, Lou can’t help the hum of approval she breathes into Debbie’s mouth, going along with the languid kiss instinctively.

“I love you, Lou,” Debbie whispers into the kiss.

She tries to deepen it, but stops when she realises Lou’s completely still, tense and taut in her arms. Debbie waits, studying Lou's features for some kind of an answer. 

“Say something," Debbie murmurs when time drags for too long.

 _I love you,_ Debbie sees Lou mouth. Then, a little louder, "I really missed you, Deb."

Debbie sighs, pulls Lou in for another kiss and starts running her hands through her platinum blonde hair. She grabs the shampoo off the shower shelf and lathers it in her hands, working it into Lou's scalp gently, then follows with conditioner and body wash. With Debbie doing all the work, Lou's hands have free rein to roam as they please. She massages Debbie's smooth skin, kneading softly to loosen the muscle knots, slipping her fingers between Debbie's legs when the brunette appears sufficiently pliant. Debbie moans, forehead falling forward to meet Lou's shoulder as she feels the heat travelling from her core to her head, dizzy with bliss.

"Lou," Debbie purrs, lips brushing her lover's ear.

Lou tenses, right up to her fingertips, and Debbie can _feel_ the way her fingers still for a second from stroking her folds. Lou brings her hand up, takes two fingers into her mouth and sucks off Debbie's juices. She swallows, eyes burning into Debbie's as she wets her fingers with her tongue and finds her entrance again. Lou pushes her middle finger in, watching as Debbie breaks the eye contact against her will, eyes screwing shut as she bites back a moan. Lou works up a slow rhythm at first, allowing the tension to coil in Debbie's abdomen to warm her up, then adds another finger and pumps a little faster, taking cues from Debbie's body language to push her far over the edge, entire body sagging against Lou for support. Lou holds Debbie until she comes back to herself, blinking slowly as her dilated pupils shrink back to size.

They dry themselves off, prepare for bed, and even then, Debbie finds that the warmth of her orgasm still hasn't really left her. This late at night in chilly New York City, the buzzing warmth is more than welcome. Debbie doesn't even mind the extra body heat when Lou wraps her arms around her, drifting off to slumber the minute her head settles on the pillow, Chinese noodles forgotten.

The next morning, Dwyn is out the door for her morning run with Grey before Debbie and Lou even roll out of bed. She brings Debbie’s favourite pastries back, even though it takes hours for her to make a round trip on foot. It’s times like this when Dwyn’s grateful that she’s kept up with track and field training even after quitting the team. The scenery passes quickly as she chases the familiar route out of Lou’s secluded loft, but she makes a left into the city where she would usually make a right towards the open fields.

She returns with mangoes and grapes for the night as well, because Daphne loves sweet but needs healthy, and fruit is really the only food group that falls well within those two margins.

Debbie shows her gratitude with a little pat on Dwyn’s head, and a smile - her signature. It’s only when Dwyn lifts both arms, wordlessly asking for a hug, that Debbie obliges.

Tammy comes by earlier than she thought she would, and Dwyn jumps up and runs to her once she steps through the door. Being a suburban mom, with a second life significantly further away than the rest of them, Dwyn sees her the least.

“Ah,” Tammy sighs as she tightens her grip on her. “This musty old place is so much brighter with you around, Dwyn.”

“Missed you, Tamzy.”

“Missed you, too. Am I the last one?”

“Nope,” Dwyn says with a shake of her head, turning back around to join the rest around the coffee table. “Daph’s on the way over from her shoot.”

“What do we have?” Tammy asks, settling down beside Nineball.

“Hawaiian, pepperoni, margherita, shrooms and spinach, grilled veggies, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, onion rings. And we have popcorn for the movie. Sweet and salted.”

“This is taking me back to my college days, except...”

“Lou’s got the booze.”

Lou lifts the bottle of moët, rocking it back and forth with a grin.

“There it is. Now _this_ reminds me of college. Except our booze was much cheaper, and the beer tasted like piss.”

Dwyn laughs. “Never pegged you for a party girl.”

“Oh man, Tammy was the best at parties. She was down for anything. And I mean literally _anything-_ ” Lou startles and jumps back in shock when Tammy elbows her in the ribs. “Ow!”

“That’s what you fucking get, Miller.”

They start chatting, falling easily back into conversation to catch one another up on recent events. Tammy has a full inventory of what she calls her ‘dumb children stories’ that she shares with the group, drawing incredulous laughs and gasps of horror. It’s far into the conversation that Rose voices out that Daphne still hasn’t arrived. 

Lou’s about to give her a ring when a noisy crash comes from the front door, Daphne bursting in haphazardly and stumbling forward, panic-stricken with blood and tears streaming down her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all that smut! thank you to everyone who has left kind words in the comments. I so appreciate it and would love to hear from everyone about what they think of the story so far.


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